


Finding Home

by Neaislove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Orphan Stiles, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neaislove/pseuds/Neaislove
Summary: Stiles is a foster child on the cusp of adulthood with nowhere to go. Literally, because in space your options are limited. He'd rather throw himself out of an airlock than wind up working on some nowhere station. Good thing he has a pack looking for him.





	Finding Home

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU'VE READ THIS BEFORE DON'T FRET! It looks like something went wrong and this published immediately instead of staying hidden as a part of the Sterek Secret Santa. So I deleted the old one and redid it.
> 
> This is a gift for do-what-the-knight-tells-queue. I've mashed up the foster parents and sci-fi prompt. Hope you like it. Sorry for the confusion.

There was a time when having children in space was prohibited. It was cruel people said. To bring children into a place where no one was meant to be. But over time one year missions turned into five. Which turned into ten and then some of them just stopped ending. People made lives for themselves in space. And so far out of the planet's reach who could enforce those laws anyways? People started having children, settling down, living free and dangerous.

Stiles knew children, knew adults, who'd never stepped foot on soil of any kind. He had vague memories of Earth, of California specifically. He remembers great towering trees and the smell of dirt and wet moss. That was a long time ago and Stiles feels most at home drifting from station to station. The thought of being locked to one place scares him a little. He's not sure he knows how to behave in a contained environment.

Which is why he's currently contemplating whether or not he should make a break for it. Officially there's no form of Child Protective Services in space. When a situation arises someone from the 'law' sector will come and collect the child, or children, and find someone willing to take them on. If the kid is unlucky enough to come from a ship that can no longer support them, or from one where no one wants them, they're grounded. Space stations are a delicately balanced ecosystem. Kids don't actually belong there regardless of how people have adapted.

Stiles doesn't have any ties to the people on this station. If this next family says no he gets dumped on the closest outpost that supports life and has a smiling face. He's use to the song and dance by now. Back when he first left Earth it was with his family. His father worked as an enforcer for the Ascension program. He was suppose to relay the law and news about Earth to outlying space stations and outposts. Then Mom got sick. By that time they were so far out from any kind of recognizable station that Dad gave it up. They hopped from port to port looking for a cure.

Raiders got them before the disease had a chance. Stiles had been playing with a group of kids down in the engineering decks when the alarms went off. By the time the lockdown was over he'd already been an orphan for hours. One of the engineers dropped him off on a dinky little planet with three moons and barely any technology. It was actually one of his happier memories. Not the death, but the result.

The Hale family had taken him in. They were farmers mostly, cultivating alien plants in Earth like environments. The parents were botanists. There were a dozen kids between Talia and her brother Peter. Stiles still remembers the awe he felt when he first saw them transform. Werewolves. In space. Until that night he thought the greatest thing he'd ever see was a planet made of champagne colored glass that sparkled from the light of his parent's transport ship.

He'd felt at home with the Hales, content to stay in one place. There were plenty of kids to play with and miles of forest to run in. The weather was mild and visitors infrequent. Before he'd had to leave he'd even fallen a little in love with Talia's oldest son Derek. He was so young, fourteen, not old enough to really love someone. And Derek was older. But Stiles knows in his bones that the love was there. Something was. They didn't kiss but most nights Stiles curled up against Derek's wolf form and listened to his heart as he drifted off to sleep and that felt plenty intimate to him.

So it was just his luck that someone would go and ruin things. Someone set fire to the crops. Whole fields went up in flames in a matter of minutes. Stiles remembers Derek holding his hand so tightly he thought it would break as they ran to the emergency shuttles. At the time Stiles wondered why they hadn't tried to put out the fire. He wondered why they hadn't just run into the woods towards the other settlements. During the confusion, while everyone was thrumming with tension, Stiles had stuck close to Derek's side and pretended not to notice how hard his heart was beating.

That night they'd docked the closest station then hopped to the nearest trading post. That's where Stiles got lost. Dyonisis was aptly named after a god of lust and wine. Everything there was in excess; drugs, violence, sex. Stiles had been beyond surprised that they'd gone there. It wasn't until days later, days of picking food out of the trash and crying himself to sleep, that he'd realized they'd been running. It hadn't been some freak accident. Someone had come for them and they'd run. The Hales had tried to take him along but his hand just slipped. It slipped right out of Derek's and there were dozens of people pushing and shoving. He got lost in the tide.

It took two weeks for someone to snatch him up and dump him on a credible space station. It took two years for Stiles to stop hating the Hales for leaving him. Now he was seventeen. In space age was a blur. People on stations still went by Earth years but laws regarding age were tricky. Most people felt like kids were kids until they weren't. Eighteen was only loose guideline for maturity. If Stiles had been on a less reputable station he could already have a job, quarters, and three kids. Unfortunately he was stuck on an Ascension approved outpost station that actually gave a shit what Earth had to say.

The nearest habitable planet was full of mining colonies. Stiles would be considered an adult there. He'd work until he died because there's no way he'd make enough money on a shit planet like that to get away. There was also very little chance that the next family would want him. His current guard said she was taking him to see the Wade's. Stiles knew them in passing because they had five children of their own. On the station they worked water reclamation. They spent all day turning sewage into fuel and water. They were also very strict and uniquely religious. God didn't usually make it this far out in space.

On Earth someone might say he would be lucky going to such a wholesome God fearing family but to Stiles it felt like an execution. He wanted to run. He wanted to see more planets, more people. He didn't want the people on this station to be the last people he'd ever meet. He didn't want to hear about Earth's God or the difference between good shit bacteria and bad shit bacteria. If he got stuck with the Wade's he'd never make it off ship. The ships coming and going were tightly monitored. There was no real money system here. Everything was given as needed, all calculated based on the number of people.

Stiles could work himself to the bone until he died and never make a single cent. Money only mattered on independent outposts and planet-side. His guard hadn't let him look around the station. She'd scarcely let him out of her sight. He didn't know enough about the comings and goings of the ship to make a break for it. Not a successful one anyways. Every inch of the station would be monitored so even if he did shove her and run he'd be caught in no time. He should have run before. He should have stowed away somewhere the second his last family got sick of him.

"Come along Mieczyslaw, you want to make a good impression. No dawdling."

"Stiles."

"Of course." His guard smiled tightly at him. She didn't give a shit what he wanted to be called. She was too uptight. She felt like she was the last bit of law out this far in the dark. Stiles really couldn't stand her. "These are the Wades' quarters. I'll speak with them on your behalf and hopefully they'll take you on."

"We can only hope." The smile Stiles forced onto his face was painful and entirely sarcastic. His guard either didn't care or was dumb enough to think it genuine. He quietly followed her into the Wades' quarters and sat where he was told. As little as he wanted to stay on this station it was still preferable to the mining planet. There he'd be so deep underground he'd never see another ship. At least on the station he'd be able to sneak away. Penniless sure, and it might take years, but it was looking like the lesser of two evils. So Stiles wisely kept his mouth shut.

They greet his guard happily enough. They offer drinks and smile while they speak. There are kids running around everywhere. Stiles can't take his eyes off of Mr. Wade though. His smile is forced. He's looking down on Stiles like he's vagrant trash. Like he's a Raider kid that couldn't keep up with the group.

"Officer Romero, it's been a delight to have you here." Mr. Wade is leaning forward, he throws an arm around his wife's shoulder.

"A real honor." Mrs. Wade is nodding her head along.

Mr. Wade smiles indulgently at her. "But we just don't think he'll be a good fit."

Mrs. Wade shakes her head and smiles softly at Stiles. Like he's some sick dog, ready to be put down. "Not a good fit." Stiles slumps back into their couch. He's going to the mining planet. He's going to be worked to death deep underground and where he'll never see another kind face. Stiles takes a few deep breaths. His face feels hot and his gut is churning. He'd never had a chance. They'd made up their minds before he'd even come.

Stiles kicks the leg of their coffee table and storms out of their quarters. He can hear the startled cries and shrieks of the Wades' kids behind him and his guard's stuttering apologies. He runs down the corridor, bumping people along the way, until he finds a small alcove. He tucks himself into it and buries his face into his hands. He doesn't cry but he does start to scream.

"Mieczyslaw! Stop it. Stop it now. Mieczyslaw!" Officer Romero was tugging at Stiles' hands. He'd quit screaming. The anger had quickly given away to fear and sadness. He was sobbing and still yanking himself away from his guard, trying to make himself small. She was treating him like a kid, he might as well act like it.

"Officer Romero, Officer. Officer Romero!" Another Officer had come along. He pulled Stiles' guard away and led her a few feet away. "I'll take him. He's in shock I think."

"He's--"

"He's just a kid Romero. I'll take it from here. Get some rest." The other officer patter her on the shoulder. "I bet he's been running you ragged." Stiles slides onto the floor and starts scrubbing the tears from his eyes. He feels like he's cycling though every stage of grief in hyper speed. He's scared. He's ashamed. He wants to stop crying but he can't because he knows he'll never be able to cry on the mining planet.

The other officer comes to him slowly. He waits until Romero is long gone before crouching down at his side. "Stiles, I know things have been hard for you. I know you haven't been happy in a long time."

Stiles snorts. He tries to catch a discreet look at his new guard. It's a blonde man. He's young and fit, dressed immaculately like one of Ascension's finest. "What do you know about me?"

"I know you haven't been happy since the Hale's lost you." He says it softly, plainly, like that little tidbit was nothing. His face is drawn, like he genuinely feels for Stiles' loss.

"How do you know the Hale's? How do you know me?"

"They're botanists. They came to work at the science station I grew up at. The Illiad. They talked about you. Derek especially." The officer rubs a hand across his face, scrubbing his mouth. He smiles wryly. "Derek could never stop talking about you. I never saw him sadder, or happier, when he was thinking about you."

"I want to see him." Stiles pulled himself back up the wall. "I want to see him." He sniffed and rubbed at his face. When the Officer rose he looked him right in the eye. "I want to see Derek."

"You're in luck. He wants to see you too." The Officer leaned in a little closer. He laid his palm over Stiles' shoulder and schooled his face into something remorseful. "Now I need you to stand up. Don't look happy. I'm going to take you down to the docking bay. If anyone asks I'm briefing you on tomorrow's drop procedure. Then you'll get on that ship and go to the pre-programmed coordinates." He squeezed Stiles' shoulder one last time and stood. "I'm Officer Parrish and I'm going to have to ask you to come with me okay." He beckoned Stiles closer and took a step back.

Every bone in Stiles' body demanded he sprint toward the docking bay but he maintained his calm. He stood and scrubbed at his eyes, even going so far as to jerk away from Officer Parrish as he stepped closer. He took a second to get his breath back properly then let Officer Parrish take him by the arm. Around them people were staring, some less discreetly than others. Despite knowing he was going to see Derek again Stiles felt his face heat. It was for the best though, he really looked the part.

Officer Parrish slowly led Stiles through the maze of corridors and to a lift. Even in the confined space Parrish kept a solid grip on his arm. Stiles knew there were cameras everywhere. Most didn't come with audio so they were probably safe there but Stiles didn't risk opening his mouth. If Officer Parrish couldn't just take Stiles to Derek directly it could only be because Derek was on the wrong side of Ascension law. If they were still running from Hunters it would make sense.

The docking bay was nothing grand. It was entirely industrial, with grimy metal and scuffed floors. Three ships were docked and Stiles was happy to note Parrish was leading him towards the more isolated one. Docking bays at stations like this were meant to be bottlenecks in case of attack. At a moments notice sentry turrets could spring out and mow down any threat. Officer Parrish stood behind him, guiding him to the ship with a hand at the small of his back.

"We're going into the ship. We'll talk on the docking platform for a little bit. Then I'll turn around and you'll seal the door. The coordinates are already in the Nav."

"How did you--"

"I saw you a few days ago. I contacted Derek as soon as I could and we set this up." Officer Parrish gives Stiles a little push onto his ship's docking platform. "Right now he's a trader. He runs a small freight ship with his sisters. Most of their work is by the books but they won't turn down a good job if the pay is right."

Stiles let out a heavy breath through his nose. He hadn't seen Derek in years but he didn't want to believe he was anything other than a decent person. As if reading his mind, or face more likely, Officer Parrish holds up his hand.

"Nothing too bad. No killing if they can avoid it. Mostly illegal imports." Parrish puts his hands on his belt and takes a few steps back. He gestures widely as if to show off his ship. "He'll meet you at those coordinates and you'll board his ship. Someone from Ascension will collect it later but you'll be long gone." Parrish snaps his head to the side, like he's heard something farther down the bay. He takes another step back, holding his hand out to signal Stiles not to leave the ship. Then he turns away. "You're not the only one the Hale's took in." With that he's jogging down the corridor.

Stiles doesn't hesitate. He's been in dozens of ships like this. Muscle memory has his slamming his hand down on the gate close button. His brain is frantically jumping from one thought to the next as he sprints to the cockpit. He doesn't know where he's going. The coordinates staring out at him from the Nav are meaningless. Probably just a bleak section of open space. He doesn't know if Derek is the same. He doesn't know how many of the Hale's survived or if any of them want to see him again. He doesn't know if Derek is doing this out of charity or if he was really looking.

Stiles is shaking with nerves as he pulls away from the station. He knows no one will fire on an Ascension ship. They're too valuable a thing to lose this far out but nothing is really stopping another Officer from coming after him. He just has to assume Parrish has that covered as well. The Nav tells him he'll be in flight for an hour. It's not terribly long and he can only hope Derek's ship can gain a decent speed or that Parrish is really good at stalling.

He's too nervous to explore the ship. Too nervous to nap. So instead he draws up his knees in the pilot's chair and stares out onto the inky black. It can be disorienting, not seeing a clear up or down. His dad had taught him to pick a single spot to hold his focus. Make that point your forward, your level ground. Stiles couldn't even bring himself to do that. His eyes moved from point to point between the window and the ship's dash. His eyes refused to check the time remaining.

It was impossible not to notice when the moving stopped though. He'd spent too much time traveling in space to ignore the subtle changes in the ship. Stiles bites his nails and focuses on is breathing. He doesn't see anything. There's no warning on the ship's Nav that says another ship is nearby. Despite the burning hope in his chest Stiles can feel the panic rising. There's no way he can go back to the station and now that he's 'stolen' an Ascension ship the nearby planets will be on the lookout for him. Just as he bites his thumbnail down enough to draw blood he hears it.

There's a series of heavy metallic clunks, one right after another. It's the sound of a ship docking. Stiles leaps from his seat and smashes his face against the window to try and catch a glimpse of the ship above him. He can just barely see the underside of the cockpit. It doesn't tell him anything other than the ship having an angular design, something that lifts the cockpit in front of and above the cargo hold.

Stiles climbs down from the dash and turns towards the cockpit door. It's open and the holding area behind it is wide open. When the ship is fully docked whoever's collecting him will drop down right there. Stiles curls his fingers over the armrest of the pilot's chair and waits.

Once the hatch hisses open it seems to be over in an instant. He dropped down to the deck, bypassing the ladder completely. He was older, broader across the shoulders. There was a shadow of dark stubble across his jaw and he'd finally grew into his ears. Stiles was seeing Derek Hale in person for the first time in years. And for the second time today he started to cry. He clung tighter to the chair to hold himself up and brought his other hand up to cover his mouth.

Then he started to sob. Derek came to him slowly. Stiles tried to make out his face. Tried to soak in every inch of him but it was hard to see through his tears. He was shaking and gasping like he'd never get in air properly again. When Derek gently tugged him forward he went like a puppet with its strings cut. He sank into the warmth of Derek's chest and let himself be held. Derek didn't bother shushing him or offering meaningless platitudes. Instead he rubbed the length of Stiles' back and rubbed his stubbled jaw across the crown of his head.

He was being scented. Stiles choked out a laugh, overjoyed to be a part of this again. Derek rumbled at him in return, going to far as to lick the shell of his ear. Derek held tight until Stiles' crying tapered off then he eased himself back. Not letting go, but leaning back enough to look Stiles in the eye. "I never stopped looking. I found you twice before this but didn't have a chance to get to you before you were gone again."

"I'm not mad. M'not." Stiles huffs and licks his lips, trying to compose himself. "I was. I was so mad...I couldn't...you left me." Stiles pulled one hand from around Derek's back to put right against his heart. "I figured it out. I thought you might be dead."

Derek tugged him back again, cupping one hand around the back of Stiles' head and pulling him in close. Stiles hand was trapped between them, pressed to Derek's heart. "Not dead, just lost."

"Cuddle later! We've got cargo to move and a fugitive to hide!"

Stiles snorted into Derek's chest. The yell came from the still open dock port. "Laura or Cora?"

"Cora. She's got a mouth on her now."

Stiles snorted. From what he remembered she'd always had a mouth. "Well lets go. Don't want to keep her waiting." Stiles slid past Derek, taking his hand and tugging him towards the hatch. Cora was crouched at the rim. Her smile was small and her long dark hair covered most of her face. But Stiles could see the pink in her cheeks. "I missed you too."

"And you'll keep missing me if you don't hurry up. Officers are coming." Needed no other encouragement, Stiles starts climbing up to the hatch. Derek sticks close behind, caging in his legs with his hands as he climbs. Cora stays long enough to rub her hand across Stiles' neck before jogging farther into the ship.

"Stiles."

Stiles turns back towards the hatch. Derek is right in front of him, close. The two of them stand nose to nose just breathing. Looking. The ship pulls itself free and they start to move but Stiles and Derek stay put. Stiles had almost forgotten how pretty Derek's eyes were.

Derek moves first, resting his forehead against Stiles'. It's nothing to push a little farther. To kiss Stiles. To press himself as close as he can get for the first time in so long. Derek holds him close, pressing soft kiss after kiss to Stiles lips until he can't take it anymore. He hears Stiles whine and surges forward. The two of them tumble against a bulk head and Derek starts to devour him. He bites and sucks as Stiles' lips. There's saliva everywhere. Their teeth clack. Stiles bites Derek's lip just hard enough to draw blood. But it's amazing.

Derek feels overwhelmed, utterly surrounded by Stiles' scent. When he pulls away to let Stiles breathe he has to throw his head back to control himself. He wants to say something. Apologize maybe. He has no idea where to start. No idea what he could say to make everything better.

The intercom crackles to life. "Okay idiots, buckle up. We've got a deadline."

Stiles smiles softly and pushes Derek away from him. It's okay though. They've got a long ride ahead and family for company. They won't have to separate ever again.


End file.
